Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 132962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Cody forced himself to stop his nervous energy masked as musing over this trip. He’d spent the last hour grooming himself, shaving, plucking, and debating over which cologne to wear. When he came out of the bathroom, he’d stood in front of the closet, looking at the choices of clothing he’d brought. When he couldn’t make a decision, he sat down in the chair because he was stressing the fuck out. He had a way of doing that to himself.
It took some time to justify that it didn’t matter that much what he wore. He wasn’t hoping for a hookup tonight. He really wasn’t a one-night stand type of guy, but he had clipped and trimmed himself down there just in case something presented itself as an option. Hell, in all honesty, he didn’t know exactly what he hoped for from the club tonight. He’d never really put himself out there like this before, but he wanted to have a good time, enjoy a few drinks, celebrate his new job, and let off some steam. He also wanted to look good doing it.
Okay, that sounded reasonable, and one thing Cody knew for sure, he wouldn’t have any fun sitting alone in this room, worrying about his clothing. Screw it! He got up, walked across the room, pulled his favorite Wranglers from his duffel bag, and slid them on. Decision made. It didn’t take long for him to finish getting dressed. Ready to go, he put his wallet in his jeans back pocket, grabbed his cell phone and truck keys before placing his beloved Texas Rangers baseball cap on his head. That was sure to give him some confidence that seemed to be failing him right then.
~~~
Mitch sat across from Colt and Jace at the Dish Restaurant on Cedar Springs. Apparently the place was a hop, skip and a jump from JR’s, the club they had mentioned wanting to take Mitch to. The restaurant was packed up tight. The bar area led right into the restaurant, and there wasn’t a lot of space differentiating the two. The noise levels were moderate, and there was absolutely no privacy. It also seemed to be filled more with regulars than the legions of officers who packed the city. To Mitch, he didn’t think this restaurant’s spin on froufrou fusion Southern comfort food was really that big a draw to the normal manly man who wore a uniform.
As far as he was concerned, he couldn’t have been more entertained. Jace and Colt were hilarious. Just deciding on a place to eat created an hour-long debate. Both were so focused on the other that neither would give. Jace insisted on a steakhouse for Colt, while Colt insisted on go-green health food for Jace. The debate went on so long that Mitch finally had to move them out the door, and he rode separately from them to get a little peace and quiet. He wasn’t sure when they decided on this place, but they wound up here where they were apparently regulars.
The possessiveness that Colt showed toward Jace didn’t just extend to Mitch. He put it out for the world to see and was actually quite amusing. Colt kept Jace close to him. He stayed attentive, even correcting the waitress when she repeated Jace’s order incorrectly. These were all such new attributes for the man he’d watched lead his father’s favorite football team in back-to-back championships and the same party boy that had been implicated in more scandalous behavior than he could even begin to recall.
“I spoke to your dad the other night,” Colt said. His one arm draped across the back of Jace’s chair, rubbing little circles into the side of Jace’s arm.
“Really?” Mitch asked. He’d foregone the beer, not wanting to drink alcohol in front of Colt, no matter how much he insisted alcohol didn’t bother him. Mitch understood the everyday battle Colt faced.
“Yeah. He seems real good. Told me to tell you that you should come see them more,” Colt said, a grin on his lips.
“Yeah, I got that email yesterday,” Mitch replied dryly. “How’s your old man doing, you ever get things straight with him?”
“We still haven’t spoken. It’s better this way; he made his decision,” Colt said, and Jace nodded.
“Excuse me, I don’t want to bother you, but can I have your autograph?” A young man, no more than seventeen or eighteen, came forward, staring straight at Colt. There was clear adulation in his eyes. He held out a black Sharpie.
“Sure,” Colt said, unwrapping himself from Jace. “What do you want me to sign?”
“This.” The young man lifted his shirt in the middle of the restaurant, exposing tan skin and a tight midsection. “Can you sign here?” The kid smiled, gesturing toward his flat stomach.
Colt paused and looked over at Jace who seemed to be enjoying this moment. “Is that your boyfriend?” The young man nodded his head toward Jace. “I saw you on television, but everyone was saying y’all had broken up.”
“Go ahead,” Jace urged Colt to sign.
“He’s my husband, not my boyfriend. Do you just want me to sign my name?” Colt asked, still acting uncertain.
“Yes.” He bit his bottom lip and made his stomach muscles ripple which caused Mitch to laugh into his sweet tea. No doubt the kid was trying to impress. As Colt signed, the kid locked eyes on Mitch, and that was all it took for the football hero to be forgotten. He slowly eyed Mitch up and down, letting his gaze linger on Mitch’s lips, before blowing him a kiss.
“I’d tear you up, kid,” Mitch grumbled, seconds before the manager approached them.
“Kenneth, behave! Leave these people alone. Go back to the bar with your friends,” he scolded, ushering the kid away.
“I’m sorry he bothered you.” He gave the kid an exasperated look, but turned a fond smile back toward Colt and Jace. “I’m glad you came back in tonight,” he said, shaking Colt’s, then Jace’s, hand.
“Terrick, meet our friend Mitch. Mitch, this is Terrick. He’s a co-owner of the restaurant,” Jace explained.